


Fantasies Come True

by icandrawamoth



Series: Kinktober 2018 [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Gang Bang, Group Sex, Hand Jobs, I'm Bad At Titles, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Multi, Nipple Play, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 08:51:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16194182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: Tycho makes a fantasy come true for Wedge on his lifeday.





	Fantasies Come True

**Author's Note:**

> For Kinktober day three prompt "sensory deprivation."

Wedge's heart is racing. He can hardly believe this is really about to happen. An idle fantasy he's entertained for years, once whispered to Tycho in the heat of the moment, now coming true. A lifeday present, Tycho had called it when he arranged for it to happen, as if this is anywhere near the level of a normal gift. Wedge truly has the best partner in the entire galaxy.

Tycho is grinning at him, able to easily see how excited he is. “Let's get you undressed to begin with, hmm?”

Wedge nods and begins tugging at his clothes as Tycho moves to help. Together they get them off quickly and leave them splayed across the end of one of the couches here in the Rogue Squadron pilots lounge. The heat has been turned up a little; he doesn't even shiver in his nakedness.

Tycho gets a hand on Wedge's long-hard cock, a few long, easy strokes that make his breath shiver out of him. “Do you want to know who agreed to come? How many?”

Wedge shakes his head, trying to control his breathing. “That's part of it, the-the not knowing. And there's only so big a pool, after all.”

“Fair enough.” Tycho pulls from his pocket the other part of this they had discussed before: a blindfold. He gently turns Wedge around and fits it over his eyes, pressing a kiss behind his right ear before knotting it securely.

Wedge turns his head this way and that experimentally. The material of the blindfold is soft and black; it admits no light at all. He shivers again. This is real.

“Do you want me to prepare you before I call them in?”

Wedge thinks. Imagines other fingers parting his legs, pressing inside him, stretching him open. He shudders pleasantly. “No, let them.”

“All right. Let's get you settled in then, and we'll get started.”

“Wait–” Before Tycho can lead him to the place they've prepared, Wedge turns, steps in close to him, tilts his face up seeking a kiss, and receives one. “Thank you,” he says for far from the first time. “You're a saint for letting me have this.”

Fingers trail across his cheek. “I know you're mine, Wedge. I'm not worried. I want to give you everything.”

The way he says the last word makes another promising shiver run through Wedge, and he nods. “I'm ready.”

Tycho leads him a few steps to where they've pushed a couple of the lounge's oversized footstools together and covered them with sheets and blankets. Wedge eases down atop the makeshift bed, lays on his back. There's a flash of coolness against his hip, Tycho positioning the bottle of lube within easy reach.

“I'm going to let them in now,” Tycho tells him. “Remember, I'll be here beside you the whole time. If you need to stop for any reason or don't like what someone is doing, just say so. They know to stop immediately.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Wedge listens as Tycho crosses the room to the door of the lounge and swings it open, murmuring words Wedge can't quite hear. Then there are the sounds of more feet, more people entering the room. Wedge tries to count them. Three, maybe four people aside from Tycho.

There's an urge in the back of his head to cover himself, a voice saying these aren't people he would usually expose himself to, but he quashes it. He'd explained to Tycho exactly what he wanted here, and Tycho had passed that on, had explained everything. Everyone here will have a good time, and when it's over, they won't speak of it again. It won't affect their working relationships. Wedge trusts his pilots to have that distance.

The cushions beside his head dip, and a hand strokes his hair briefly, Tycho taking his place beside him. As excited as Wedge is for this, it's good to have him there, familiar and grounding.

Then other hands are him, gentle, exploratory, coaxing across his chest and belly, and lower still... Bold fingers tease along his cock. Wedge moans softly, arching into it, only to have the fingers disappear again. He huffs in frustration.

A finger plays with one of his nipples, coaxes it to a pebbled peak, then a mouth – and Wedge groans as tongue and lips play with the sensitive bud, pressing up into the sensation. He feels hair brushing his chest, long hair then, either Rhysati or Inyri. He squeezes his eyes closed beneath the blindfold, tells himself it doesn't matter.

Then the sensation is echoed from the other side, more lips, more tongue, both of his nipples teased and pleasured at the same time. Wedge whines with it, pleasure already building inside him.

The feel of the lube against his hip disappears, and Wedge's heart jumps as he hears it snick open. Hands coax his legs up and apart as the mouths retreat, but the hands return, stroking and teasing along every piece of skin they can reach.

And then – Wedge gasps loudly at a touch on his face, fingers at his mouth he knows aren't Tycho's from the way his partner murmurs a quiet reassurance. And then, _stars_ , there's something else entirely touching his lips, the thick head of an unfamiliar cock, and Wedge's guts go hot as he opens to let it in.

Whoever the man is goes easy on him, slow, steady thrusts into his mouth as Wedge works him, groaning around the heat of it. He breathes through his nose, head swimming in the scent of the man's sweat and musk, the unique smell of pure _sex_ that's quickly filling the room.

Below, slippery fingers tease his hole, and Wedge gasps in surprise, losing track of the cock in his mouth momentarily, gagging as it hits the back of his throat. The man pulls back a little, pets his hair in silent apology. The man below pauses as well, and Wedge takes a moment to gather himself before nodding slightly, gesturing for both of them to continue.

He lets his eyes fall closed, concentrating on the cock in his mouth as the work below resumes. A finger eases inside him, making him shift and shudder as he longs for more. Then it's drawing out, two pressing back in, the stretch beginning in earnest.

The breathing above him increases in tempo as the thrusts in his mouth become sloppier – Wedge can't quite identify the voice, but he can tell they're getting close. He redoubles his efforts until he can feel them shuddering, then suddenly they're pulling out, groaning, and a moment later Wedge feels hot cum streak his face.

He gasps at the sensation, a little shocked, a lot turned on, just as below him, he's stretched on three fingers. He squirms, pressing himself down on them. It's _good_ but it's not quite enough. He wants–

Then the pressure is all gone, leaving him totally bereft, and Wedge catches his breath, knowing what's coming next. Even as the certainty of it settles in his gut like the hands framing his hips, as he feels the man position himself at his entrance, there's an abrupt spike of panic.

“Who?” Wedge gasps raggedly, the thought of someone other than Tycho inside him, not even knowing who it is, suddenly too much. “Please–”

The touch disappears, all of the touches across his body, and he senses someone leaning over him. “It's me, Wedge. Is this all right?” It's Corran's voice, and Wedge shudders from head to foot.

From beside him, Tycho adds, “If you've changed your mind about this, that's fine.”

“I haven't,” Wedge manages. He reaches up blindly, gets a hand on Corran, tugs him downward. “Do it.”

There's a shuffle as his attendants rearrange themselves. Corran's hands grasp his hips again, and he thinks that's Tycho's hand taking his. Then Corran is back at his entrance, and a heartbeat later there's steady pressure.

Wedge loses his breath as Corran pushes inside, slow and thick and _good_. “Harder,” Wedge grunts, and there's a breathy chuckle before Corran obeys, pulling back out to the tip and slamming home.

Wedge spasms around him, crying out with pleasure, and then hands are on him again, touching his chest and belly, sliding across his cheeks to press into his mouth, curling around his cock. He twists beneath the multitude of sensations, floating in pleasure and feeling. He never wants it to end.

As Corran continues pounding into him, the hand on his cock increases speed, and Wedge's eyelids flutter beneath the blindfold. He can feel orgasm approaching, his body tightening in anticipation–

The hand on his cock slows, then stops, then grips lightly at the base. Wedge chokes down a ragged breath, feeling the peak recede. This was what he'd wanted, not to come too early into this, not with the first person to really touch him, and as frustrating as it is to have pleasure torn away like that, he's grateful they remembered.

Corran is still moving, though, his breaths growing more labored until he freezes suddenly, then shudders against Wedge before going still. A moment or two later, he pulls out, and Wedge whines softly at suddenly being left empty.

The hand on his cock withdraws as well, and there's a shift beside him, someone leaning closer. Wedge feels a pang of recognition as another voice speaks, Nawara Ven: “Would you have me as well, Wedge?” There's a slight hesitation on his name; Nawara knows his title isn't appropriate here, but he's unused to being so familiar.

The fingers in Wedge's mouth slide away to let him speak, trailing saliva across his lips. “Of course,” he murmurs roughly. “Please.”

He listens, heart racing, as bodies rearrange themselves again, as there's the tearing of a condom wrapper, and then Nawara is filling him up, and Wedge arches against him. He doesn't have the girth of Corran, but he's long, stimulating places inside Wedge that make his toes curl. He immediately starts up a punishing pace, his sharp nails digging into Wedge's flesh in a way that just heightens everything else.

A mouth unexpectedly closes over Wedge's cock, drawing a wail from him as he's immediately engulfed in hot, tight suction. Fingers are toying at both of his nipples again, too, now, and he's not going to last long at all like this.

He starts to say something, loses his words before they've even half emerged, and suddenly he's coming, wave after wave of pleasure wracking him, making him tremble beneath the multitude of bodies touching him. The mouth on him takes everything in, laves him clean until he's trembling, then withdraws. Nawara slows, giving him time to recover before continuing.

Wedge floats, lost on a sea of bliss, slow to come back down to the ground. He barely notices as Nawara grunts his release and retreats. With final caresses, the other hands withdraw one by one.

Wedge doesn't know how much time has passed before his head is being eased up, the blindfold unknotted. Then Tycho is smiling down at him, stroking his hair. “Okay?” he asks.

Wedge gives him a dopey grin. “More than okay.” He looks around, sees the room empty except for them. “They're gone?”

Tycho nods. “Did you get everything you wanted?”

Wedge takes stock of himself. The saliva and lube drying in various places across his skin, scratches making themselves known on his hips and chest, soreness in his nipples and between his legs. His smile widens. He feels sore and used, and it's exactly what he wanted. “Mmm,” he manages, stretching luxuriously.

Tycho grins. “Don't fall asleep on me. You're a real mess. We need to get you bundled into a shower.”

A thought occurs to Wedge, and his eyes wander back to Tycho's. “That's not all I need,” he murmurs, and reaches to draw his partner down into a kiss. He deepens it immediately, coaxing Tycho's tongue into his mouth, tightening his grip on his hair. It feels right, after all of this, to come back to him.

Tycho is panting when Wedge finally lets him go. “You still want more after all of that?” he teases.

“I always want you,” Wedge tells him sincerely.

Tycho's eyes sparkle. “Think you can manage in the shower? Kill two birds with one stone?”

“You'll hold me up if I need it?”

Tycho helps him up off the footstools and pulls him into his arms. “Always.”


End file.
